


you've got some kind of nerve

by jemmasimmmons



Category: Agents of S.H.I.E.L.D. (TV)
Genre: F/M, Reincarnation AU, fitzsimmons finding each other in every lifetime, this starts off kind of sad but i promise it gets happier
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-04-26
Updated: 2015-04-26
Packaged: 2018-03-25 22:25:11
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,294
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/3827203
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/jemmasimmmons/pseuds/jemmasimmmons
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>'Four lives, two hundred and twenty four years, all of those spent looking. Four lifetimes, Fitz. And I couldn't find you in any of them.'</p><p>A reincarnation AU.</p>
            </blockquote>





	you've got some kind of nerve

**Author's Note:**

> Prompt: "I skipped like four cycles of reincarnation and I know you’re pissed at me for leaving you all those lifetimes but it wasn’t my fault please please will you take me back"
> 
> I didn't really mean to write this weekend but I saw this prompt and the idea really stuck with me and I ended up writing this. I don't normally write sad things so it was quite a nice change actually! The title comes from the song 'You Found Me' by the Fray, which I listened to on repeat while writing this and strongly reccomend listening to when reading this.
> 
> Hope you enjoy this!

 

_“And I’d choose you; in a hundred lifetimes, in a hundred worlds, in any version of reality, I’d find you and I’d choose you.”_

( Kiersten White, The Chaos of Stars _)_

 

 

 

It had been a hundred lifetimes, but he had still never seen anything as beautiful as her.

Fitz stared at her from across the lab, as students filed in from behind him, only vaguely aware that his jaw had dropped and was hanging open.

She was sitting at a bench, her head ducked into her bag and she was biting her lip. Her skin was pearly pink, with only the slightest hint of natural blush, a blush that always made it seem like she was glowing. Her hair was curling up at the tips like it always did when she was this age, but she had scooped it back into a tight ponytail and held it in place by an even number of kirby grips.

That was how he knew it really was her.

She never liked odd numbers.

Fitz swallowed nervously; he had never done this part before.

In all their other lifetimes together, it had been her who had found him. It had always been her who had come bounding up to him, when they were four, fourteen, forty-four. It had always been her who had flung her arms around his neck and laughed, he who had frozen in shock for a heartbeat before bringing his arms up to hold her too. He had never had to look for her, because she always managed to find him.

This lifetime, though, he had been searching for her for as long as he could remember.

It was at that exact moment that she chose to look up from her bag, and she found him still hovering gormlessly by the door. All at once, her warm brown eyes turned frosty and she jerked her head back down again, her lips pursed together in a harsh line.

Fitz felt his heart sink, but shouldered his backpack determinedly and made a beeline for the empty stool next to her. He elbowed another student, who had been about to set his books down, out of the way and sat down heavily in the stool before glancing across at her. She had given a sigh as he had sat down, and was now angling her body away from him, her shaking hand covering the side of her face so he couldn't look at her.

Her other hand was covering the front of her exercise book, so that he couldn't see her name. They had had different names in every lifetime, of course, but neither of them could ever remember what they had been and Fitz had decided long ago that it didn't really matter. In every lifetime, he always thought her name was the most beautiful in the world.

He licked his lips anxiously.

'Hey.' He leant in closer to her. 'It's me-'

'No.'

Fitz hesitated, startled at how painful hearing her utter that single word was, before trying again. 'Look, I can explain-'

' _No._ ' This time, she sounded close to tears.

Abruptly, she pushed her stool back from the bench with a sickening scrape of metal against wood and got to her feet, collecting up her books, and stalked over to sit down on the other side of the lab. She refused to look at him for the whole hour, keeping her eyes fixed firmly on the board in front of them and the neat rows of chemical equations in her book.

Fitz never even set pen to paper. He was too busy revelling in his own horror, his own guilt and his own utter resentment for the situation the two of them had found themselves in to focus.

As the lesson dragged on, Fitz let his eyes close and he exhaled slowly through his nose and thought about the name he had seen scribbled on the front of her book before she had hastily gathered them up in her arms.

_Jemma._

This time, her name was _Jemma_.

 

 

 

His mother had often told him he was stubborn as a mule when he wanted something, and Fitz supposed this was really no different.

She was deliberately avoiding him, eating her lunch on the furthest point of the cafeteria from him, choosing the seat farthest away from him when they were in classes together.

It hurt more than Fitz had ever thought something could; his body was aching for the same physical closeness they had always had in their past lives. They had always co-existed from the minute they found one another again and she would always tuck herself into his side, holding his hand and humming a tiny tune. Without her being there, Fitz felt horribly empty. Like half of a whole.

The next time he got to speak to her, she was walking through the courtyard, her satchel banging against her hip and a pile of books clutched to her chest. She stopped in her tracks when she saw him cross her path, though, and turned away from him with a roll of her eyes.

'No, Jemma, wait,' he started to beg, but she was already moving away from him, shaking her head.

Fitz grit his teeth and started off after her, having to break into a jog to keep up.

'Jemma, stop,' he panted. 'You can't keep doing this. You have to talk to me, you have to let me _explain_ -'

'Four lives,' she snapped, stopping so sharply he almost ran past her. 'Four lives, two hundred and twenty four years, all of those spent looking.' She finally looked up at him and he saw that her eyes were full of tears. 'Four _lifetimes_ , Fitz. And I couldn't find you in _any_ of them.'

'I know,' he whispered, tears burning at the backs of his own eyes. Tentatively, he reached out a hand to stroke her cheek. 'Jemma, I'm so sorry...'

She jerked away from his touch angrily.

'I was looking for you,' she said, tilting her chin higher. 'All that time, I was looking for you, I looked _everywhere_...' Her voice cracked and she squeezed her eyes shut, unable to stop a tear from leaking out all the same.

Fitz wanted to hold her; he wanted to reach out and hold her forever and make it stop hurting, but the logical part of his brain forced his hands to remain by his side. He reminded himself that doing that would probably make things worse.

Jemma raked her hand through her hair and gave a tearful sigh.

'Please...' Fitz murmured. 'Jemma, please...'

She shook her head, sadly. 'I can't do this,' she whispered, and stepped away from him, turning away with her head hunched over her chest.

Fitz watched her leave, with a hollowed out feeling in his chest.

 

 

 

They had only ever talking about figuring out how the whole thing worked once, maybe six or possibly seven lifetimes ago.

It had been during a meteor shower they had gone to watch in the mountains, and she had been falling asleep on his chest in the back of a pick up truck.

(That had been a good lifetime, Fitz decided.)

'How do you think it works?' she had asked, her hands playing with the fabric of his sleeve.

'Hmm?' He had his mouth pressed to her hair. 'What d'you mean?'

'How it all works. How we always end up finding each other, in every lifetime.' She had paused and, even though he couldn't see her, he had imagined her frowning in thought. 'There must be some sort of science behind it, don't you think? Parallel dimensions or something like that?'

'I don't know,' he had said.

She had fallen quiet. 'We should figure it out, sometime,' she said eventually.

'Oh yeah?' He had smiled, even though she couldn't see him. 'Let's do that.'

She had nodded, satisfied, and stretched herself out into him with a little sigh. He had doubted she would remember the conversation in the morning. She hadn't.

It had been a near perfect night, Fitz always remembered.

(He had nearly told her then, in that night, in that lifetime. But she had fallen asleep before he could.)

 

 

 

Fitz sat at his desk with his head in his hands, paper on every surface of his tiny dorm, books spilling out onto the floor and words dancing before his closed eyelids.

He had researched parallel universes and different dimensions. He had checked out every single book on unexplained phenomena that the library had. He had even, much to his own surprise, spent hours pouring over explanations of soulmates.

He wasn't sure he entirely believed in the concept.

But for Jemma, he could easily see himself making an exception.

Fitz groaned, and with a sweep of his arm, pushed his entire night's work off the desk.

 

 

 

He had only ever told her how he felt in one lifetime.

It had been their last life together before this one and there were parts of it that were hazy to Fitz, something that didn't usually happen with his past lives. Usually, his memories were crystal clear.

But the details of that particular life were fuzzy around the edges, like an old photograph so well thumbed the colours had smeared into one another. The only thing about it that Fitz knew with absolute certainty was that in that lifetime he had told her the truth about how he felt about her, out of sheer desperation.

 _You're more than that_.

She had cried. He knew that too; she had cried and cried and cried until he had felt like he was drowning in salt water and the weight of her arms. But then the blackness had taken over and he hadn't seen her again.

Not until the day he had walked into their lab after eighteen years of searching.

 

 

 

It was three am when he made his breakthrough.

Fitz had heard about people having epiphany moments before, but, a lot like the idea of soulmates, he hadn't ever believed in them. This, though, might force him to rethink that.

He made a grab for his papers and, heart thumping, pulled them together until they formed a thick bundle which he then clutched to his chest like it was a life raft. Fitz paused in his doorframe, taking one last sweeping look at his room, before ducking out into the hallway.

He made his way straight to her room, where he rapped on the door before he could change his mind.

Jemma opened the door, bleary eyed and dressed in pyjama bottoms and a purple tank top. The sight of her like that made Fitz's breath catch in his throat. Even though he had seen her in pyjamas dozens of times over the lives they had spent together, it never failed to take his breath away.

'Fitz?' she asked in sleepy disbelief, and for a moment she didn't sound angry or sad, like she always seemed to in this life. She sounded like herself instead, like the her he had known before, all those times before.

Fitz held out the papers. 'I've been trying to work it out,' he said.

Jemma frowned. 'Work what out?'

'This. Us. Everything.' Fitz shook his head, completely aware that he wasn't making sense. 'How we always end up finding each other. You said we should try, once, try to figure it out but you don't remember.'

Jemma was watching him curiously, her eyes wide. Then, wordlessly, she held her door open and stood aside, a silent invitation. Fitz stepped into her room, his heart thumping, and once Jemma had shut the door behind them, he offered her his research.

She took it gingerly, but her eager curiosity got the better of her and she began to leaf through the papers, her brow knitted together.

'I've been trying,' Fitz explained. 'To find out what it is that causes this – us. But I can't. Nothing makes any sense, it shouldn't happen, it's completely against any law of the universe. It's impossible.'

Jemma was biting at her lower lip as she examined the papers, but he could tell she was still listening to him. Fitz had to take a deep breath before continuing.

'I wanted to figure it out,' he said, 'because I thought that if I could find out how the whole thing works, then I would be able to understand why it went wrong.'

Jemma looked up sharply.

'What do you mean – what went wrong?' she asked, her nose scrunched up.

Fitz shifted uncomfortably from one foot to the other and stared at the ground.

It was ridiculous. He had been dying to explain this to her for weeks, but now that he actually had the opportunity, the words felt scrambled in his head.

'The reason that you couldn't find me,' he said carefully, 'is because I wasn't there. All those lifetimes...your four lives...I wasn't there. I skipped them, somehow, and I didn't live them.'

Jemma was staring at him, the papers turned slack in her hands.

'I don't know why it happened,' Fitz continued, the words spilling out of his mouth now in his eagerness to explain. 'I did all _this_ ,' he tapped hard at the papers she was holding, 'and I still can't figure the bloody thing out! I just know that I wasn't there, I didn't live those lives.' He stopped, and took a deep shuddery breath before looking at her. 'And that's why I couldn't live them with you.'

Jemma was still silent but her chest was heaving as she seemed to struggle for breath.

'You...you weren't there?' she asked, eventually.

Fitz shook his head, tears burning at the back of his throat. 'No,' he whispered.

Jemma gave a tiny gasp, and her hand came up to cover her mouth as she started to cry. Fitz could see her struggling; to comprehend, to understand, to _believe_ , even.

But then she looked up at him with tears welling in her eyes and he knew he had finally found her again.

With a stifled cry, Jemma launched herself forward into his arms, letting the papers she had been holding crash to the floor. She wrapped her arms tightly around his neck and started to sob into his shoulder, deep, shuddering sobs that sounded like she was saying _I'm sorry,_ _I'm so, so sorry_ into his skin over and over again.

Fitz held her, letting her sob, but his hands had only just come up to her shoulder-blades to pull her closer to him when Jemma pulled back so abruptly the top of her head collided with his chin.

'It's just...I thought you were hiding from me.'

Fitz shook his head in disbelief. 'What? Why would you...?'

Jemma sniffed, streaking her hand across her face to wipe away the tears.

'I thought...I thought maybe you regretted what...what you said to me, that last time. I thought maybe you decided that you hadn't meant it and you didn't want to see me again.'

Fitz stared at her, utterly dumbstruck.

'That's why I was so _angry_ ,' Jemma explained, shaking her head from side to side. 'With myself, really, but I took it out on you, and, oh God, Fitz, I am so, so sorry...'

She started crying again and it was only when Fitz stepped forward to wrap her in his arms again that he realised he was too.

'I'm sorry too,' he said into her hair, rocking them both back and forth. 'I'm sorry, Jemma, I'm so sorry.'

But that seemed to only make her cry harder and Fitz pulled back to be able kiss her on her temple: once, twice, three times.

'I meant it,' he said, fiercely, in between the kisses, then dropped his forehead down to rest on hers. 'I've been wanting to tell you for as long as I can remember, in every single lifetime I've wanted to tell you. But that was the only one I was brave enough to do it in. I meant every single word of it, Jemma.' He swallowed back his tears. 'And I always will.'

Jemma tilted her head up towards him, her eyes still shining with tears, and her hand slowly came up to cup the side of his face. Her fingers were cool on his skin as she brushed away the tears from his cheeks and the look on her face was one of such breathless wonder that, for a moment, Fitz forgot how to breathe.

And then she was kissing him.

He had imagined it many times, in every life, every age, every world. But nothing, Fitz decided, could have prepared him for what it would feel like to actually kiss her for the very first time.

Everything fell away; the walls around them could have crumbled into dust for all he cared, the stars could have burnt out and the universe swallowed the sun but he still wouldn't have cared, wouldn't have _known_ even.

The only thing Fitz knew for certain existed was Jemma, and her lips were soft and tasted like tears and she felt as fragile in his hands as butterfly wings.

It was a kiss, Fitz thought, that had been worth the wait.

It was a long time before Jemma pulled away, but even when she had she let her lips linger over his jaw, and his neck, and then his shoulder, like she couldn't bear to separate herself from him. Fitz had his hand wound in her hair, stroking it like silk.

'Maybe,' Jemma said, shakily. 'We can work it out together.'

She bent down to gather up his research, her careful hands sliding them into the right order. She stood up again and handed it to him.

'You couldn't figure it out alone,' Jemma continued. 'But maybe if we look at it together, I can help. A fresh pair of eyes can never hurt when you've got a problem to solve. And as soon as we know how it works, we can fix it. Make sure we're never without each other again.'

She reached up on her tiptoes to kiss him lightly on the mouth again.

' _Ever_.'

She said the word with such conviction that it sounded like a promise.

Fitz nodded in agreement, feeling like a heavy pressure had been lifted from his chest and he could breathe easy now.

'Okay,' he said. 'We'll figure it out. Together.'

Jemma's eyes were excited now and already Fitz could see her mind humming as she began to consider the project she had just undertaken and all the possibilities it had opened up for her. He loved it when she looked like that.

Gently, Fitz reached back across to take his papers back out of her hands and turn to place them on her desk.

'But not tonight.'

Jemma's face quirked up into a frown, before easing into a delighted smile as Fitz slipped his hands around her waist and drew her closer to him.

As he lay her down onto the bed, and her hands came up to grab the neck of his t-shirt to pull him down next to her, Fitz decided that whatever came next did not matter. He could live a hundred thousand more lifetimes, but he doubted he would ever be happier than he was in that moment.

They would have the rest of their life to try and figure the whole thing out. Hell, they would have _all_ of the rest of their lives together to figure it out if they wanted. And the knowledge of that made him feel, with a definite certainty, that somehow they _would_ figure it out. Together.

But not right now.

Right now, the only thing Fitz wanted to think about was Jemma.

 


End file.
